


Wired

by kimtristh



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: M/M, Post-Finale
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-11
Updated: 2013-10-11
Packaged: 2017-12-29 03:01:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1000072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimtristh/pseuds/kimtristh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Walter White's death, Walt White Jr. and Jesse Pinkman meet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wired

**Author's Note:**

> ^_^ 4 u xo

Junior is worried. Flynn. Junior. He doesn’t really know what to call himself anymore – maybe now that his dad is gone he should go just by Walter? He tries to adjust the cuffs of his suit jacket and fails. He asked his dad to die, didn’t he? And he did. Not even a week after, he did. His dad always did go the extra mile when fulfilling his nonsensical requests didn’t he?

When he was younger, he was convinced that it had been his fault that his dad had left Grey Matter and thus missed out on his ticket to Forbes 500. Now he knows things are a bit more complicated than that, he knows that his father always has a myriad of reasons that not even he could fully understand, but he still wonders if maybe he hadn’t been born at that time, if he had been born well, maybe things would’ve been a bit different. 

His mom tried to convince him not to go to the funeral because she didn’t want Holly there and things are not well enough with his aunt Marie just yet. He doesn’t think Marie is going to the funeral, but what if she does just to spit on his dad’s grave or something? He feels bad because he didn’t just accept to look after Holly and now they have to pay for a babysitter, but really, he needs this. He needs to see what his words caused.

He takes his crutches and walks towards the exit, his mom is already waiting in the car, Holly in her car-seat and bags all set to drop her off at the babysitter’s. It’s an old lady, the kind that doesn’t really ask questions and that works for them. Flynn thinks that if he hadn’t been disabled maybe people wouldn’t have been so ready to identify them, that maybe if he had been an average kid he could blend into the masses and therefore he wouldn’t be helping to single out his mom either. 

He spent all his life learning to accept and even like who he was, even through bullies and the frustration of having a teacher as a father, nowadays he wonders if this never ending angst over things he knows can’t change has anything to do with karma. Maybe if he had been more generous, more understanding, maybe then he wouldn’t be blaming himself so much. Maybe he wouldn’t have anything to blame himself about. 

They drive in silence, they always do nowadays. He loves his mom, he does. He understands so much now of the past two years and how badly she tried to keep it together but... for starters they never have breakfast together anymore. 

As he gets out of the car, he sees a large gathering of cars and a part of him hopes it is the people his father helped when he was just Walter White, father, husband and teacher, but he quickly realises it is not. It is journalists and cops. There are no students, no neighbours. No family friends, no former co-workers. Not Louis, not aunt Marie. Just plain suits and badges, and at the very furthest corner someone who could pass as one of them, except for the fact that he’s wearing shades indoors and instead of swarming the incoming casket like the others remains planted on his spot, fists balled tightly and his lower lip trembling as he lets out a sob so violent that Junior could swear he heard it through the impossibly loud whispering of the dozens of strangers that will leave once they've taken what they can.


End file.
